


alone/sublime

by inkk



Series: alphabet AU challenge [15]
Category: Bandom, Pierce the Veil, Sleeping With Sirens
Genre: Angst, Kinda, Magic, Psychic Abilities, Suicide Attempt, Wicca, Witchcraft, general spookery, kellin is a good samaritan, Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 06:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4993372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkk/pseuds/inkk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>O</b> is for <b>Occult</b>.</p><p>(In which Vic is sad and Kellin is a witch kid.)</p><p>Pусский (Russian): <a href="https://ficbook.net/readfic/5718123/14696440">кликните сюда</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	alone/sublime

**Author's Note:**

> kellin practices wiccan-based eclecticism in this story - if you'd like to know anything more about it, i highly encourage you to drop me a comment (or do some research on your own)!
> 
> story title comes from the Mother Mother song 'Alone and Sublime'.  
> enjoy! :)
> 
> (this work has been translated into russian [ here](https://ficbook.net/readfic/5718123/14696440)!)

+

_We are the flow, we are the ebb.  
We are the weaver, we are the web._

_We are the flow, we are the ebb.  
We are wolves that Hecate fed._

_We are the flow, we are the ebb._

_We are the witches back from the dead._

 

+

 

The boy is small and fragile-looking, with tan skin and long, dark hair that falls in little curls over his shoulders. His nervous smile and restless hands don't camouflage well and Kellin thinks _victim_ before he even knows the kid's name.

 

It turns out to be Vic, short for Victor; _Conqueror_ , Kellin thinks idly. 

It doesn't suit him.

 

He sees the kid in the hall later that day and catches a quicksilver glimpse of dark bruises yet to come; sees them unfurling like tarnished storm clouds over irritated skin and smooth ribs by the time snow starts to fall. 

He sees a long coil of rope, carefully tied into a loop and attached to a rafter, and he sees a chair tipped over onto its side and then he sees Nothing.

 

And so that night, for the first time in half a year, Kellin lights his candles and opens a circle.

 

\+ + +

 

Kellin's almost never wrong.

This time won't be an exception.

 

He had almost hoped he would be - that maybe, for once, the stars could take pity on his easily broken heart and bring matters into their own hands, but the less-foolish part of him knows things don't work like that.

 

It's probably exactly what he deserves for caring so much.

 

\+ + +

 

"Why do you care so much?" Vic spits, wiping the back of one scraped hand over his bloodied mouth as he lurches unsteadily up off of the cold pavement. "I don't even know you."

He says it like a vulgar insult with a voice like acid, with hardened eyes a cold sneer that makes something inside of Kellin flinch back.

This is not the same boy he wanted to save. 

This is something pathetic and angry, something akin to a wounded animal - something that cries and hurts and bleeds but still doesn't know how to allow someone to help it.

 

 

This is a boy who doesn't want to be saved.

 

 

\+ + +

 

_Stars we were and stars we will be, circling through eternity._

_Stars we are and stars we remain, walking on this earthly plane._

 

 

\+ + +

 

 

"It's because you're important."

 

Vic turns around when Kellin speaks, his dark eyes dressed in a brand of waryscaredsuspicious that makes Kellin's chest ache. His aura feels completely off balance; dark and wobbling and unsteady, like a small child playing alone on a teeter-totter.

 

"What?"

 

"You're important," Kellin repeats, "Or you're going to be, at least." He shrugs. "That's it. That's why I care so much."

 

"Stay the fuck away from me," Vic growls after a moment, rolling his eyes and turning back around to keep walking, "Fucking freak."

 

Kellin lets him walk away, watching him go with a sinking feeling.

Right before he turns the corner at the end of street, Kellin gets another brilliant flash: a locked bathroom door and white tiles, trembling fingers scrabbling at a wooden cupboard, tearing it open, fumbling for _two, three, five, six, nine_ colourful plastic pill containers, a practical rainbow of tablets falling into an eager palm, slipping easily down an esophagus with the help of a bottle of burning, shoplifted vodka and laboured breathing and then--

Wait.

No.

There's someone screaming, pounding on the door, thumpthumpthump, _terrified_ , the sound of screeching metal and splintering wood, adrenaline, _NO NO NO_ , cold hands feeling for a ( _weak, still there, still hanging on for you_ ) pulse and then a surge of bloody stomach acid forcing itself through pastel blue lips, and then what?

 

Kellin runs home - _flies_ home - on shaking legs, heart thumping as he bursts through the front door and up the stairs to his room, clumsily striking a match to light his candles as his lips stumble over a prayer.

 

Kellin's almost never wrong.

It hasn't happened yet, but it sure as hell is going to. 

 

Soon.

 

\+ + +

 

 

Vic isn't at school next Tuesday.

His brother is.

 

Mike. Short for Michael, Kellin assumes; "The one who is like god".

 

He doesn't look like god today.

He looks: exhausted, swollen-eyed, shocked, inattentive, gaunt, emotionless, blank-faced, haunted, small

 

and very, very afraid.

His fingernails are still broken and bloody from clawing at the bathroom door last night when Kellin grabs his hand in the hallway and says, "I'm sorry," pressing a gold-painted rune stone into his palm before walking away.

He has no need to stay and watch the dull spark of confusion flicker to life in Mike's otherwise dead eyes, or the way his fingers will instinctively curl around its smooth surface. 

He already knows.

 

\+ + +

 

_Long night,_

_Dark of the sun._

_Cold wind the year is done - long night_

_We face the dark._

 

\+ + +

 

Kellin doesn't think about what would have happened if he hadn't prayed for three hours straight the previous night.

 

(Won't think about it, _can't_ , think about it, adamantly refuses to even consider the possibility of Vic disappearing from the earth like smoke from a snuffed candle.)

 

 

\+ + +

 

"Hey! Hey, you - wait up!"

Kellin looks down at his shoes as they scuff through the thin blanket of snow covering the sidewalk, but he doesn't stop walking.

"Hey! Witch kid!"

A smile twitches at the corner of Kellin's mouth when a heavy hand lands on his shoulder. _Mike_. His aura is still weary, but it radiates a faint, unmistakable translucent golden shine.

"I never thanked you the other day in the hall," he says.

Kellin studies his hands. "'S'ok," he mumbles.

"No, no, wait," Mike insists, catching his elbow. "Look at me, dude."

Kellin does; Mike's eyes are wide and earnest, dark bags lingering like shadows beneath them, but his face is still brighter and more animated than Kellin has seen it in days.

"Holy shit," he breathes with a disbelieving chuckle, "I knew it. I _knew_ it!"

Kellin allows himself a small frown. "Knew what?" he asks, breaking eye contact.

"You knew about Vic," Mike says. "You knew it, you _saw_ it." Quieter, he adds, "I know you did."

"So what?"

Mike shifts. "Everyone says you're a witch, you know that?" - Kellin gives a slight nod - "And, I mean. I didn't believe them at first 'cause I thought they were just being assholes, but. I looked up the symbol thingy on that rock you gave me, and..." His tone is gentle and filled with wonder, with urgentgratefulcuriosity and Kellin feels two pounds drop off of his shoulders when he asks, "You really are, aren't you?" 

"Yeah," Kellin answers after a long moment, "I guess I really am."

"Cool," Mike grins. Then, "I'm on my way to visit Vic at the hospital, you wanna come with?"

Kellin looks at him and carefully shakes his head. "No, thanks," he declines, "I don't think Vic wants to see me." He smiles down at his feet.

 

"Take care of him, okay? 

 

He's going to be important one day."

 

\+ + +

 

 

 

Kellin isn't at school the next day.

 

 

\+ + +

 

_And as long as we are moving, we shall live again._

 

 

+

**Author's Note:**

> before you ask me what happened to kellin, please try to decide for yourself... :)
> 
> thanks for reading! as per usual, kudos are great (and comments are even better)!


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